


Chaste, Chasity, Chase

by craple



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craple/pseuds/craple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You kiss him, one evening, and you are surprised to find his lips wet and soft, his breath smelled of peppermint and chocolate in lieu of wine, and to find him not kissing you back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaste, Chasity, Chase

**Author's Note:**

> this is a birthday gift for me (25th of May, oh wow), so, happy birthday me! ;D

You kiss him, one evening, and you are surprised to find his lips wet and soft, his breath smelled of peppermint and chocolate in lieu of wine, and to find him not kissing you back.

There is a moment of stillness that makes you hesitate, makes you think that perhaps you have miscalculated – that maybe this is not what Grantaire wants, when he looks upon Enjolras at the top of high surface in every single rally he went to with something akin tor reverence on his face; that maybe Grantaire simply thinks of him as a family he needs, nothing else.

It is during this moment of stillness that your breath stops, stuck in your throat, and you do not realise of the soft barely-there press of Grantaire's surprisingly soft lips against yours, pushing back, pushing you back but not in the way you want it too.

Still, you acquiesce of Grantaire's wish, because perhaps you are wrong after all, the possibility is fifty-fifty, with Grantaire is always is. He is the one thing that confuses you the most, the one who sighs like his dreams have been fulfilled when you snap at him in moment of passion, who smiles at you even when your frown is so deep you can feel it in the back of your head.

You tug a strand of Grantaire's black curls behind his ear and wait for him to speak.

Grantaire does not.

Simply looking at you there, as if you are mentally ill rather than anything, and you worry that perhaps the possibility isn't always fifty-fifty, not anymore. What if he stops coming to the meetings after this, you think, what if he doesn't want to see you anymore after this?

He must have seen the stricken-panic-look on your face though, as his gaze softens, the corner of his lips curling into a small lopsided smile, and he tilts his head just so without inching back more than necessary away from your person.

"Why?" asks Grantaire, his hands on your shoulders, the warmth of his body seeping through the thin fabric, like branded on your skin. You blink, swallow past the lump of relief down your throat, mimic his head-tilting movement with a smile.

"Because I want to," you reply, earnestly, and it is all the answer he needs to pull you back into another kiss.

You smile, fist your hands in the rough material of his clothes, and sigh as you kiss him back.


End file.
